


In Perfect Trust

by Mijan



Series: Academy Series Spinoff Stories (Adult-Rated) [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Era, BDSM, Bondage, Breathplay, Consensual Kink, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Medical Kink, Needles, Other, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Sounding, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mijan/pseuds/Mijan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Everything feels just... it's like I'm itching for something that I can't quite scratch. So I wanted something that could… snap me out of that. Feel like I'm trying something new and dangerous.</i><br/>It certainly wasn't how Leonard McCoy had ever hoped to discover Jim's more unusual sexual interests, but now that he knew, he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip for either of them... if Jim trusted him enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this started when someone on a discussion thread (might have been the kink meme, might have been somewhere on the kirk_mccoy LJ community) suggested a sounding fic. I said, huh, I can do zat. And the idea just lodged itself in my brain and demanded to be written. I developed it a little bit, because I am incapable of writing PWP, and this is the result.
> 
> This is a total collaboration between myself and [lizardspots](http://lizardspots.livejournal.com). She did the amazing artwork, for which I provided my feeble art beta skills and detailed descriptions. I wrote the fic, for which she provided detailed medical information and insights from the mind of a doctor-in-training. She also did some good beta work to help me revise several major sections, and don't let her tell you otherwise. Art can be seen at the bottom of Part 3.

  
  
_“Infirmary to Doctor McCoy._ ”

Leonard looked up over the edge of his PADD and glared at the blinking comm panel. He was on call, yes, but with a xenovirology exam at 0800 hours, he really couldn't afford the distraction. He’d blocked all regular comm channels, had locked his door, and had even shown Jim Kirk the bottom of his proverbial boot so that he could get some real studying done. That meant the only thing that could interrupt him was a medical emergency, and the blinking comm panel meant that some idiot on campus had chosen that precise moment to become a thorn in Leonard’s side.

The comm chimed again. There was no avoiding it.

Grumbling, he tossed his PADD aside and lurched out of his chair, slapping the comm panel irritably. “McCoy here.”

 _“McCoy, there’s been a medical emergency reported in your building. Possible code blue. We’re dispatching an emergency response team, but you're the closest –”_

The words _'code blue'_ had Leonard rushing across the room and grabbing his emergency med kit. If someone's heart had stopped, he had minutes. Seconds. "What’s the room number? Patient status?”

 _“Room 607. Human male. Patient is unconscious, not breathing. McCoy, it’s –”_

“Drugs involved? Trauma?” he barked out, shoving his feet into his shoes.

 _“Uncertain. The only other being in the room is a Denobulan cadet. Uninjured, but she's frantic. We can’t get much info out of her.”_

“Great,” Leonard growled. “I’m on my way.”

 _“McCoy, you need to know, it’s –”_

Leonard was already out the door. Whatever else was wrong, he’d find out when he got there. That’s what tricorders were for.

The turbolift opened for him almost instantly, and he snapped, “Sixth floor,” at the computer as he did a quick check of his emergency supplies. It was amazing the shit that Starfleet cadets could get themselves into. Sure, they were supposed to be the best and the brightest, but there was a large contingent who were also excessively curious, moderately reckless, masochistically-inclined, adrenaline addicts. He knew at least one of those personally. Whoever had caused tonight’s excitement… _After I finish saving this idiot, I’ll make him wish I hadn’t_. He indulged in six seconds of grumbling to himself until the turbolift door opened, at which point his irritation was shoved to the back of his mind and he switched into emergency responder mode.

Leonard clutched his med kit tightly as he raced down the hall towards room 607. He didn’t even have to look for room numbers as he ran; a Denobulan female was standing at the doorway, scantily clad, looking anxious.

“I didn’t know – I didn’t realize he’d be so delicate! He asked me to! I swear, he asked me to!”

“Ma’am, I don’t care how it happened,” Leonard said as he pushed past her, into the poorly lit room. “I just need to –” He stopped cold, feeling his breath catch hard in his throat. A sick, icy nausea welled up in his stomach as he took in the absolutely motionless form of Jim Kirk on the floor. _“SHIT!”_

In an instant, Leonard was on his knees beside Jim, tricorder in hand, and his world narrowed to the tiny readout screen and the unconscious man in front of him. _Alive_ , thank god, but it was bad and getting worse. Heartrate was too fast - far too fast, getting faster, weaker; he wasn't breathing and his oxygen levels were slipping, but there was no sign of severe trauma, no reason for - “Of all the stupid – _goddammit!_ ”

Leonard threw the tricorder aside and cradled Jim's head with his hands, tilting it back until his mouth fell open; the kid was unconscious with his own goddamned tongue blocking his airway. "Come on, Jim, _breathe_ ," he hissed at him, but Jim was too far gone for his body to start breathing again on its own. Somewhere between furious and frantic, Leonard pulled out the respirator unit from his kit with one hand and sealed it over Jim’s mouth and nose. There was nothing Leonard could see that -

"Computer, lights, 100%!" Not letting go of Jim, he took in the rest of the scene around him in choppy glances. Jim was in his underwear, and so was this other cadet – whatever Denobulans wore for underwear. Yet another of Jim’s wild sexual encounters he’d often tried to brag about before Leonard cut him off.

“What the hell were you two doing that could have –” And then he noticed the stark line of red marks forming on Jim’s neck. “Oh, you’ve _got_ to be kidding me!”

“He told me that many humans enjoy it… that it’s normal for…” She crouched down on the floor, a few feet away, and her already nervous expression became absolutely distraught. “It’s not normal, is it?"

"No," Leonard growled, "but 'normal' isn't in this kid's vocabulary."

"Then why would he say that? I didn’t mean to hurt him! I didn’t know! What if I killed him?”

“You didn’t kill him, so calm down, give him some space, and let me work!” The Denobulan’s raving wasn’t helping Leonard concentrate, but it was certainly helping him paint a solid picture of what had happened. Leonard had no doubt in his mind that Jim had persuaded the woman to do this to him. His furious exasperation at his patient barely kept his own personal worries at bay; he needed to do something, but unless it got worse - _fuck, don't get worse, please don't get worse_ \- there was nothing he could do but support Jim's head while the respirator kept the kid's lungs working. With one hand, Leonard grabbed the tricorder and scanned him, watching anxiously as oxygen saturation began to improve and his heartrate started to settle.

Jim couldn’t have been unconscious for long. There was no brain damage and his O2 stats hadn’t fallen below critical. Still, he was a mess. In addition to the compromised airway, it looked like the Denobulan had put some pretty heavy pressure on the carotid arteries. Jim had probably passed out from that, and the bastard had probably convinced the poor girl who had done it that she should keep going even if he passed out because it was all normal. And the girl had been either too frantic or too clueless about first aid for humans to even check for airway blockage. Crazy, reckless, thrill-seeking, suicidal bastard.

Although he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable at the moment, to either Jim or his partner for the evening, the woman probably felt guilty enough, and as far as Leonard was concerned, Jim had done this to himself. No need to make it harder on the girl. “It’s okay, miss…?”

“Kestra,” she choked out, clutching her hands to her chest.

“Miss Kestra, it’s not your fault."

She started to squeak a reply, then shook her head. "My actions were clearly dangerous to him. Why would he tell me to do something like that?"

"Because," Leonard growled, staring at his tricorder readings, "Jim Kirk is an idiot."

Kestra's eyes almost bugged out of her head. "What?" she gasped.

Leonard gritted his teeth; he didn't want her to think that he berated all of his patients to the same degree as Jim. "He's a good friend of mine, Kestra. Humans say stuff like that when we're worried about friends."

She nodded in apparent understanding.

With a grimace, Leonard looked back down at the tricorder. Oxygen saturation was back up to normal, and brain activity was increasing. The kid should be coming around any second. Leonard put aside the tricorder and gently slapped Jim's cheek behind the respirator mask.

"Jim. Hey, Jim?" With his other hand, he gave Jim's shoulder a little shake. "Come on, kid, naptime is over."

For a moment, Jim's eyes fluttered, then snapped awake, somewhere between confused and frantic. "Bones!" His voice was muffled behind the respirator. "Where am… what am I…" He reached up and swatted at the mask on his face, coughing weakly as his body fought against the respirator's function. "What's this –"

Leonard caught Jim’s hand and pulled it aside. "Don’t fuck with my equipment, Jim,” he growled, unable to completely hide the relief in his voice. “Relax and let yourself breathe with the air pressure. Don't fight it."

Jim put his hand back down, relaxed marginally, and blinked a couple of times as he squinted and looked around the room. "I… I'm… _shit_. Kestra…" He glanced to the side.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she blurted. "I shouldn't have pressed so hard! I didn't know that it was risky. Why didn't you tell me?"

He flashed her a bleary echo of his I’m-a-charming-bastard grin. “It’s nothing, Kestra,” he reassured her. “Just an accident. I’m fine.” The thick croak in his voice belied his words, which were obviously a boldfaced lie, considering how he still looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Kestra seemed somewhat pacified ( _although not by much_ , Leonard reflected), and so Jim gave her one more wavering grin before he turned his head and glanced up at Leonard. The attempted confidence of a moment ago was replaced by wariness – at least, what passed for wariness from a guy who had been unconscious only seconds before. "Bones," he groaned, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm on call tonight, Jim," he said flatly. "Your sexcapade partner might not have the best grasp of human physiological limitations, but aside from that, at least she's got the common sense that you so notably lack."

"She called in a medical emergency," Jim said, his eyes going wide. "Which means –"

"That a medical team is on its way," Leonard finished for him.

Jim stared up at him, eyes desperate and begging, mouth a tense line underneath the respirator mask.

Leonard didn't need to be an expert in reading Jim Kirk to know what he was asking, although he figured if Kirkology was a degree program, he'd have another goddamned doctorate by now. With a dramatic sigh, he pulled his comm off his belt and flipped it open. "Doctor McCoy to the Academy Infirmary."

 _"Infirmary here; this is Doctor Wuxiang. What's Kirk's status, McCoy?"_

Leonard swallowed nervously, and fixed Jim with a glare that said clearly, _You owe me, kid_. He took a deep breath. "The patient is conscious and lucid with vital signs returning to normal. He was apparently trying to impress his Denobulan lady friend and discovered that prolonged inversion of the body can lead to a case of surprise syncope."

There was a short noise on the other end of the comm link which sounded suspiciously like snickering. Jim groaned softly in embarrassment, but Leonard's critical eyebrow told him in no uncertain terms that he could have made the humiliation far worse than to suggest a mere fainting spell. "Yeah, he's fine," Leonard confirmed again.

 _"The med team is almost to your dorm building. Shall I recall them?"_

Jim's eyes pleaded one more time.

Leonard gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, recall them. Kirk is stable and uninjured. The only remaining wound is to his pride, but he's recovered from far more serious injuries of that nature that would have been fatal to mere mortals."

This time, there was definite chuckling over the comm. _“Okay, you’ve got him, then?”_

“Yeah,” Leonard grumbled. “I’ve got him. McCoy out.”

By then, Jim was struggling to sit up. “You know,” he said, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you just insulted me.”

Leonard reached out a hand and helped push Jim upright, saying, “Cognitive function is returning. Prognosis is favorable for a full recovery.”

"Bastard." Jim scowled at him and leaned to the side, propping himself up with one hand. With the other, he reached up for his mask. Leonard promptly grabbed his hand and pulled it away again.

“I told you,” he said as he ran another tricorder scan, “don’t fuck with my equipment."

"Bones…" The nickname was stretched into a plea. "Come on, get this thing off me."

The tricorder confirmed what Leonard already knew; Jim was right as rain. He reached over and unceremoniously yanked the respirator off Jim's face without bothering to deactivate the seal.

"OW!" Jim's hand snapped up and rubbed his cheeks where the mask had left red lines. "Watch it! You almost took half my face with that thing!"

Leonard gave him one sharp glare before turning his attention to his med kit as he neatly packed his supplies again. "Miss Kestra," he said with his most gentlemanly drawl, "thank you for calling in this emergency. Within any reasonable expectation, you did nothing wrong, and you can't let yourself feel guilty for this. It’s not your fault that you were misled about human physiological limitations. You may have saved Cadet Kirk's life by calling for help so quickly." He could almost feel Jim freeze next to him, but he looked up at Kestra. "But for future reference, you should know that human necks are pretty sensitive, and it's better not to apply any pressure to them… even when some of the less intelligent specimens of our species ask you to."

"Hey!" Jim protested, but Leonard ignored him.

"Okay," she said softly, meeting his gaze with a look of uncertainty. "You… you're not going to report this?"

Leonard spared her a look of mercy. "What's to report?" he asked with a resigned grumble. "A cadet didn't know his own limits and got carried away while engaging in sexual exploits. It's not a unique situation. You had no malicious intent, Kirk has already recovered and has no lasting injuries, and I think you both learned lessons from this." He twitched his head in an awkward shrug. "Besides, if I report it, that's a shitload of forms to fill out, and I just don't have time."

"Oh," she said, still looking embarrassed, but marginally reassured by his levity.

With a sigh and a groan, Leonard looped the strap on the med kit over his shoulder as he stood. "Miss Kestra, I suggest you put some clothes back on before you catch a chill."

Jim also stood, a bit shaky at first, then reached down and scooped up his pants. "And I'll just get dressed and head back to my room so I can study for –"

"Don't even think about it, hot shot," Leonard interrupted him, stepping decisively between Jim and the door. "I'm not through with you yet. Put your damned pants on."

Jim blinked in surprise, but Leonard's tone allowed no room for argument. "What, Bones? I've got studying to do," he said, hopping awkwardly as he yanked his pants on. "Midterms and all, ya know."

Leonard snorted derisively, grabbed a black undershirt that had to be Jim's, and chucked it at the kid, hitting him neatly in the face. "You weren't going to study tonight, and you know it."

The shirt popped over Jim's head, leaving his hair standing in every direction, which should have been impossible with the regulation haircut, but somehow Jim managed to violate even those norms. "But Bones, I – "

"They paged me because of you, and so you have a choice: Either you come with me, or I call back the medical team and we treat the damage to your neck down at the infirmary.” He gave Jim his most devious look. “I’ll even make sure they put you on a stretcher. I know how much you love that."

Jim looked like he'd just run into a brick wall. "Uh… ok." He turned to Kestra, a look of sincere apology painted on his face. "Look, I'm sorry I put you through this. Normally, stuff like this doesn't happen. You're just a lot stronger than you look, which is really awesome, so maybe –"

"That's enough," Leonard growled, grabbing Jim by the arm. "Kestra, he's sorry, he's an idiot, and he's got to go now." And with that, he dragged a protesting Jim Kirk to the door.

"Easy there, Bones! Hey Kestra, sorry about this… uh… maybe next time we –" The door sliding shut behind him cut him off. "Dammit, Bones, you could have at least let me say goodbye properly! Isn’t this some sort of abuse of power as a doctor? And hey, you don't need to hold my arm so tight; I can walk."

Leonard didn't even look at him as he continued to stride down the corridor, hauling Jim along with him. He said nothing.

"Uh, Bones, you're kinda squeezing my arm."

The turbolift door opened in front of them, and Leonard spun Jim around in front of the open doorway. He glowered furiously. "Jim, just shut up." And he shoved Jim backwards into the turbolift. "Eighteenth floor." When the turbolift stopped, Leonard grabbed Jim's arm again and pulled him the rest of the way to his dorm room. Mercifully, they didn't encounter anyone in the hall, and Jim kept his mouth shut this time.

As soon as Leonard's door slid shut behind them, he pushed Jim towards the bed. "Sit."

"Bones, listen, it's not like –"

Leonard shot him a death glare, effectively silencing him. Rummaging around in the med kit, Leonard pulled out the tissue regenerator. "You know," he said in a low tone, "these don't come in standard emergency med kits. They're not really for immediate medical response. Vascular regenerators and dermal fusion units take care of bleeding; tissue regeneration is a secondary procedure." He held the unit next to Jim's neck and activated it, watching the first bruise begin to fade almost immediately. "But do you know why I keep one in my med kit, Jim?"

"Oh, am I allowed to talk now?"

Another brief death glare.

Jim blew out an exasperated breath. "No, I don't know why, Bones, but as you said, I'm an idiot. I guess you'll have to tell me."

"I keep one in here because of you, Jim," he said flatly, keeping his eyes focused on his task. "Because you're my friend, and as much as I don't like enabling some of the crazy shit you do, I know how much you despise the infirmary, and I'm usually pretty happy to help you out when I can."

Jim actually barked out a laugh at that. "You? Happy to help me out? Every time you've patched me up for something, you usually spend the entire time berating me up one side and down the other for my stupidity."

"And just why do you think I do that, genius?"

"So I'm a genius now? What happened to 'idiot'?"

Leonard deactivated the unit and switched to the other side of Jim's neck. "Actually, you usually are a genius. An infantile, reckless, and occasionally foolish bastard of a genius, but usually you are. And yes, I'm usually happy to help you out." He gritted his teeth, feeling the anger that had been simmering since Jim had regained consciousness finally boiling to the surface. "But when you do something this stupid… this goddamned _dangerous_ , Jim…"

"It's not that dangerous! People do it all the time! I can't believe she called for medics."

“You’re damned lucky that she did!" Leonard pressed the regen unit against Jim's neck, locking it in place to let it work on the deepest part of the bruise, which happened to be right over the main carotid artery, then he looked up and met Jim's eyes. “Do you understand what could have happened to you? Do you have any fucking idea?”

"It wasn't that bad, Bones! I just passed out. That's part of how it works, you know?"

"Just passed out," Leonard growled low in his throat. He stood up and stepped back from the bed, shaking his head slowly. He turned and kicked off his shoes harder than necessary, sending the second one careening into the window with a resonant _thud_ , eliciting a visible flinch from Jim. He balled his hands into fists, feeling the bite of his fingernails in the palms of his hands. " _Just_ passed out," he said again, more vehemently this time. "You did _not_ 'just pass out,' you idiot. You weren't even breathing when I got there! How can you not comprehend how serious that is?"

Jim looked like he'd been slapped. He stood and took a couple of steps towards Leonard, arms dangling helplessly at his sides. His mouth opened and closed silently a couple of times before he got any words out. "I would have been fine," he said, but without any conviction.

"Yeah, you tell yourself that." Feeling a sudden inclination to strangle his insufferable friend, but knowing that was the _worst_ thought he could possibly have just then, Leonard forced himself to fold his arms and turn away from the object of his ire. He paced as he ranted. "Goddammit, kid, I don’t know what sort of thrill you were hoping to get, and I don't care. There are lots of ways to mix it up in the bedroom without putting yourself in danger, but that’s not one of them! Erotic asphyxiation is fucking dangerous. There's no safe way to do it.”

“It’s not that bad –”

Leonard rounded on Jim, suddenly feeling like the scant centimeter of height that he had over the kid was much bigger. “James T. Fucking Idiot Kirk, let me tell you a story. When I was working emergency room rotations during my residency, we had a case come in. This girl had convinced her boyfriend to choke her during sex.” Leonard held his voice level and dangerous, punctuating each sentence with a small step forward, pressing into Jim’s personal space. “Do you want to know what happened, Jim? Do you?”

Jim was taking very small steps backwards to match Leonard’s movements. “They… uh… they had really hot sex?” he asked hopefully.

“She was suffocated, Jim! Do the words 'oxygen deprivation' and 'critical brain damage' mean anything to you? She was dead before they could even get her to the hospital.”

Jim’s face dropped about three shades of pale. “Maybe she had an underlying –”

“She was healthy, you bastard! Healthy, young, beautiful, with her whole fucking life ahead of her.” His voice hit a peak as the memory of that young woman superimposed with the image of Jim, unconscious on the floor. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to erase the image from his mind, and failing.

Jim took two solid steps backwards and sat down hard when the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. “I…”

Leonard took a deep breath and forced his voice down a few decibels. “Do you know what that did to the boyfriend? I had to give him the news. Oh yeah, that was fun. He broke down in the waiting room, sobbing his eyes out, saying over and over again that she’d begged him to do it, and how he didn’t want to, but he didn’t think it would really hurt her. And after he’d lost his girlfriend, he was only lucky that they acquitted him of the charges of second-degree manslaughter.”

Jim’s pale complexion had taken on a notable green tinge.

"And you..." The image of the dead girl was gone, and all he could see now was Jim lying on the floor, and Leonard was almost sick at the thought of it. "Goddammit, Jim," he growled, "you were only a couple of minutes away from... that could have been you, Jim."

Jim cringed, and he looked away.

Leonard nodded slowly, seeing that Jim, the stupid bastard of a genius, was getting the message loud and clear. "I asked you why you think I berate you up one side and down the other when you do stupid shit that gets you injured." He could hear the resignation in his own voice, and he sighed. "It's simple, Jim. I do it because for some unknowable reason, I actually give a damn about what happens to you. I don't _like_ seeing you injured, so I fix it. And then you just go out and mess up my work again, so I fix it again. And I'm gonna keep fixing it, because I guess that's what I do."

"Bones…" Jim said weakly.

"But there are some things that even I can't fix, Jim, and someday, one of those things is going to happen to you." He felt his own throat tighten just a little bit. Whatever he might say aloud to deny it, Jim meant too goddamned much to him, and the thought of Jim slipping beyond his ability to pull him back hurt in a way he couldn't even define. "Don't make that day come any sooner than it has to."

Jim’s eyes were unfocused, staring across the room at the far wall. Leonard didn’t much like that look on him, but at least that meant he was listening and processing what he'd just heard. With a huff, Leonard crouched down and repositioned the tissue regenerator over the last of the deep bruises. He noticed Jim shiver slightly under his touch, but the kid didn't make a sound. Then, feeling unusually exhausted himself, Leonard sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulder brushing against Jim’s.

“Why did you do it, Jim?”

After a few seconds, Jim whispered, “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do. This isn’t your normal shit. What's going on?”

It almost seemed that he was going to answer, but he fell silent, staring at the floor in front of him.

Instead of pushing, Leonard waited. After a moment, he checked the tissue regenerator and removed it, tossing it lightly into the med kit. Finally, Jim shifted on the bed, leaning his elbows heavily on his thighs, and spoke.

“I’ve been a bit stir-crazy lately. Everything has been busy, and classes have actually been pretty challenging, but… everything feels dull. Muted. Distant.” He dug his fingertips into his knees in a clawing motion. “Nothing new, nothing that makes me feel... engaged and on-edge.”

Leonard looked at Jim in disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right? You’re taking twice as many courses as most cadets –”

“Just two extra courses, Bones.”

“– in the command track, which has training missions and simulations on almost a weekly basis, and you come back from half of those looking like you’ve gone ten rounds with a premenstrual Klingon –”

“It’s just training.”

“– and when you have a scrap of spare time, you’re off on some grand escapade, usually dragging me along!”

For several seconds that stretched out uncomfortably, Jim didn’t move, didn’t speak. Leonard frowned. “Jim?”

“I was gonna drag you along tonight.”

Leonard couldn’t stop himself from jolting slightly and sliding a couple of inches away so he could turn to look at Jim more directly. “The _fuck_? You mean, you wanted me to come along with you to Kestra’s room and… and…?” He let his voice trail off into the unspoken question.

To that, Jim actually laughed, shoulders shaking mirthlessly, still staring at the floor. “No, Bones. Kestra was plan B. I only met her last week. Shit…” He shook his head.

Frowning, Leonard leaned around, trying to get a better view of Jim’s face. “What, Jim?”

He watched as Jim chewed his lower lip thoughtfully, seemingly wrapped up in his own inner dialogue. Finally, he shrugged, still not looking up from the floor, as if facing Leonard while saying this would be too difficult, and said, “I've been curious... and I figured if anyone knew how to do this… this sort of stuff safely…” His face flushed with embarrassment, ears bright red. Jim _never_ blushed.

“Jim,” Leonard said softly, hoping that he actually sounded encouraging, “you can tell me anything.”

“Because you wouldn’t judge me, right?” Jim asked in a flat voice.

“Because I’ve already judged you, ya lunatic, and I already know you’re crazy, and I haven’t kicked you out yet.”

Jim actually gave a half-smile. "Nice to have your confidence." The smile faded again.

"Jim, spill it."

Fists and jaw clenched as Jim took a bracing breath. "Everything feels just... it's like I'm itching for something that I can't quite scratch. So I wanted something that could… snap me out of that. Feel like I'm trying something new and dangerous. I want to try some kinky stuff… not stupid things like fuzzy handcuffs and blindfolds and spanking, but really unusual stuff."

"And so you went to some alien girl you just met and asked her to strangle you?" Leonard couldn't keep the note of accusation out of his voice.

"Fuck it, Bones, that wasn't the point!" He twisted around on the bed and finally looked Leonard square in the eye. "I didn't go to her first, I went to you!"

Leonard felt his mouth fall open at the stark realization, and his mind reeled with the possible implications as his entire perception turned on its head. " _Shit_."

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
Jim's eyes had gone wide, as if he couldn't believe he'd said that aloud. "I don't mean… it's not that…"

"I turned you away," Leonard said, feeling a twist of guilt. If Jim was this worked up, then it was clearly something that was important to him, and Leonard had brushed him off. Kicked him out. "That's why you were here earlier, isn't it?"

With a barely perceptible nod, Jim whispered, "Yeah. I had decided not to say anything after you kicked me out of the room. Never got to ask earlier, so I wasn’t going to ask at all."

"And I turned you away," Leonard said again, hating himself at that moment.

Jim shrugged and looked aside. "You had to study, and I was being an ass. I can't blame you. Besides… this isn't the sort of shit that I can just ask people."

"Even me?"

"Especially you." He chuckled dryly, in contrast to the flushed look that was spreading across his face and ears. "Most people's opinions don't matter much to me, Bones, but yours does. You're the person I trust. Which is why talking to you about something… _touchy_ … is both the most obvious thing, and the most risky. If I freak you out –"

"Wait, Jim… just wait a second." Leonard thought carefully for a moment about how he was going to say this. "You once asked me for a detailed explanation of the physiology for how a human male could initiate intercourse with a Bolian woman. You clearly didn't worry about causing me to 'freak out' that time, and you didn't even flinch when I started describing the potential impacts on the male anatomy."

"So?" Jim asked warily.

" _So_... you clearly don't have a problem asking me all sorts of crazy things. Do you _just_ want to ask me questions about this… or do you want me to _do_ something about it?" When the vivid red blush on Jim's face went about three shades darker, Leonard knew he didn't even need to wait for a response. He leaned his forehead into his hand and rubbed his temples. "Goddammit Jim."

The bed bounced as Jim suddenly launched himself off of it, babbling. "Listen, I'm sorry I bothered you. You've got studying to do, and I've already taken enough of your time. Thanks for patching me up, and for not reporting this, and let's just pretend I never said any of this, and it'll be –"

"Jim."

The kid froze about two steps from the door, just barely outside the range to trigger opening it. "What?" It came out as a squeak.

"I didn't say 'no.'" Leonard stood and crossed the room to Jim, watching him carefully. The kid was actually trembling, almost imperceptibly. "I also didn't take you for a bottom," Leonard said calmly, standing just outside of Jim's personal space.

"I'm not," he said quickly – too quickly.

Leonard narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not," Jim said, more slowly this time, "but there are just… certain things I really want to try. And getting myself choked to death wasn't actually on the list. That was… just what I could think of at the time. Something that seemed easy, like anyone could do it."

"Oh?" Leonard cocked his head to the side, frowning, appraising Jim. "You want stuff that not everyone could do, is that it?"

"Uh…"

Leonard clenched his jaw for a moment, considering this. He'd never mentioned it to Jim, mostly because he'd never seen a reason to, but he was no stranger to some of the more unusual sexual exploits. As a doctor, he'd been propositioned for it quite a few times just on that fact alone. And, to be fully honest, he rather enjoyed it.

"It's not just because I'm your friend, is it, Jim?" He stepped decisively into Jim's personal space, and taking a calculated gamble, reached out and grabbed Jim's wrist, making it clear that he was reaching for Jim's pulse. Not only was the kid's pulse racing, but Jim definitely flushed even redder. _Suspicions confirmed._ "Well I'll be damned. You've got a medical kink, don't you?"

Jim pulled his wrist out of Leonard's grasp and pushed past him back into the room. "How the hell should I know, Bones?" He stalked across the room and sat on the arm of the couch, a bundle of nervous energy, almost twitching with blatant anxiety. "I've never done it before. And I hate doctors."

Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know about that, Jim. You seem to get along with me well enough."

"You're different," he mumbled.

It was all Leonard could to to keep from smirking, but he couldn't let himself do that just then. Jim had moved back _into_ the room, not out the door; the kid wanted to be here. In turn, Leonard had to play his cards carefully to keep Jim from running. "How's that, Jim? Because I'm your friend, too? Because you're comfortable with me, at least as a friend?"

Jim shrugged.

"Or is it because you've decided that you trust me, even as a doctor?" Jim didn't move, but Leonard could hear the unspoken agreement anyway. "I know that doctors make you uncomfortable, kid; they put you out of your comfort zone because they take control away from you. Jim, I've known you for over a year and a half, and I've seen you injured enough times to know the pattern. You don't give a shit about the injury, but you're consistently embarrassed about something. I think I'm starting understand what."

"I… I just hate being a patient." He looked away and stared at the far wall, eyes as blank as he could make them.

Leonard shook his head, letting the psychological analysis spin in his mind. There were times when a doctorate in psych actually came in handy. He'd seen this before, and he knew Jim well enough to fill in the gaps. "You hate being _seen_ as a patient," he stated, calmly and clinically. "You hate the awkwardness of being helpless in front of people, because it's too personal. You _do_ hate being weak, but… I think the rest of it makes you edgy. I think it fascinates you... the things that can be done to the human body... to _your_ body."

Jim visibly shivered, and Leonard knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

"Maybe nobody else would notice, but for some unknowable reason, I've got this odd habit of paying attention to you." He took a couple of steps towards Jim, arms still folded over his chest. "You usually get really quiet when I stick a regen unit on you. You squirm when I scan you with a tricorder. And that time you woke up after two days at Starfleet Medical after that goddamned shuttlecraft accident, and you realized you had an IV in your hand… you were staring at it with this sort of morbid fascination until you noticed I was watching you, and then you tried to order me to remove it." He snorted in amusement at the memory, realizing the significance all these months later. "Nice try, by the way. But I think you actually liked it when I told you that it was staying put for a couple of days."

The only reaction from Jim was that he swallowed nervously and clenched his jaw. He said nothing, and his burning personal shame was palpable.

That was the last thing Leonard had meant to do. He pressed his lips together, then sighed tightly, wondering if he'd pushed too far. "Come on, Jim. It's nothing to feel strange about," he said, hoping that might help.

Jim managed a derisive snort. "Ha. 's funny," he grunted, just barely audible.

Leonard shook his head, reconsidering how to approach this, then started walking towards Jim again. "Listen, Jim... you like being the tough guy. I get that. You probably define yourself in the bedroom with the same macho attitude that you use on everything else you do. But if you want to step outside of your comfort zone for a change, then you've gotta be honest here. I think you've never had anyone take care of you in your life - never _let_ anyone take care of you - and you crave it. I think the awareness of your own body makes you feel more alive, the forced loss of control gives you an _excuse_ not to be in control for a change. And I think that if you could have that on your own terms, behind closed doors, with someone you trust... it would be the best goddamned thing you could imagine." He stopped right in front of Jim, looking down at him like cornered prey. "Am I right?"

Jim wasn't looking up. He was staring straight ahead, as if he could see right through Leonard's stomach and out the other side. He was breathing just a bit too quickly, a bit too shallowly, and his left hand was clenching and unclenching over and over like a nervous habit. He looked like he was trying to shake his head but couldn't.

"Jim," Leonard said softly.

Finally, Jim glanced up; defeat, embarrassment, and a distant glimmer of hope churned in his eyes. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely, then let his head drop again. "Fuck it all, but yeah. This is so embarrassing."

"Why?" Leonard asked neutrally, doing his best not to attach any sort of qualification to the question, wanting Jim to fill in the blanks himself.

"Because," he choked, "you've just read me like a goddamned book, and nobody has ever done that." He swallowed convulsively and closed his eyes, as if he couldn't bear to face this. "Because this is the part where I find out if you think I'm a freak or out of my mind or laughable or ludicrous and you decide I'm not worth your trouble or this is some stupid thing that should be ignored or that you don't want to speak to me again…" He paused and glanced up one more time, and Leonard thought there might have been a rim of wetness around his eyes. "Or I find out that you're taking me seriously."

Gently, ever so gently, Leonard put his hands on Jim's shoulders, and crouched down so that Jim's eye-level was above his own. For all the times he'd happily razzed or mocked Jim with casual banter, this wasn't the time to do that. He gave Jim the most sincere look he could manage. "Jim, I already think you're out of your goddamned mind for half of the ludicrous, laughable, freakish stuff you do, but not for this. And I will always, _always_ take you seriously when you need me to."

"But this is... I don't know, Bones... this is just weird."

Leonard dropped his hands from Jim's shoulders, but didn't back away. "Well, it's not standard for everyone," he admitted plainly, "but how would you define weird? In this day and age, folks are hooking up with sentient beings of other species from other planets and discovering whole new definitions of sex and pleasure. And you - I mean, seriously, Jim, you've probably tried more wild and weird things than anyone else I know, if your boasts are even fractionally true. Why is this different?"

Jim hesitated, then sighed. "You said it yourself. Because it's personal."

There was something else unsaid. Leonard raised an eyebrow, silently demanding the rest of the answer.

"And because... because it would be asking for something."

Leaning back on his heels, Leonard let it all weave together. He considered this new, but not entirely out-of-place discovery about his friend, realizing that this might be the most open, honest thing Jim had ever told him. If there was one thing he knew about Jim, it was that the kid didn't ask for anything. Sure, sometimes Jim would _impose_ himself on people, showing up with that confident, exuberant presence that glowed white-hot like a star around which everything and everyone else revolved, but it was true - he never asked for anything. Never let on that he needed anything, even when it was obvious that he did... even medical treatment. _Especially_ medical treatment.

In the almost-two years that he'd known Jim, Leonard had become accustomed to all-but-forcing Jim to take care of himself. No matter how much Jim protested, he knew who would win. And now, Leonard understood - even as he'd resisted, Jim had wanted him to win. For once in Jim's life, someone else was taking control... but was taking care of him, not hurting him. _No wonder the kid latched onto me from the start_ , Leonard mused, remembering the day they'd stumbled off the shuttlecraft in the Academy's main hangar, and how he'd dragged Jim to the infirmary against all protestations. He remembered how Jim had refused to cooperate with the infirmary personnel until Leonard had shown the duty doc his own credentials and clearance, and had been allowed to take over Jim's treatment.

Sure, Jim had continued to resist until he'd drawn the privacy curtain, but then the kid had become absolutely compliant, even though he'd continued to verbally protest until Leonard began treatment. He remembered how the hyper-talkative Jim Kirk had gone absolutely silent as he'd run the tricorder scan, then set the osteo-regenerator unit on his broken nose. He remembered the faint shudder as he'd explored the newly mended skin and muscle with his fingers, testing and prodding to make sure everything had healed right, trusting his own sense of touch more than just a digital readout on a scanner. And he remembered how Jim had hovered just a few inches closer to him as they'd left the infirmary, shoulders almost brushing together as they'd walked.

Yeah, the kid needed this in a way he probably didn't even realize.

"Well, Jim," Leonard began slowly, standing as he spoke, "I'm not going to let you ask for anything."

In an instant, Jim looked absolutely crestfallen and wounded, but Leonard kept talking. "What I _am_ going to do is give you a set of instructions." He walked back over to his med kit where it was sitting open on the floor and began fishing around. When he found the monitor he was looking for, he returned to Jim. "Hold out your arm."

"Uh... Bones? What are you doing?"

Leonard just looked steadily at Jim until the kid shivered and held out his arm. Not hesitating, Leonard pulled Jim's sleeve up, explaining as he fastened the device just above Jim's wrist bone. "I need to get some studying done, and so do you. However, after your little adventure earlier, I can't take the risk of you having complications. Maybe you don't think it's a big deal, but suffocation is _not_ a goddamned joke, Jim. I'm probably just being too damned nice to you, but I did promise not to drag you to the infirmary. Instead, you wear this monitor for the next twenty-four hours." Jim shivered again, almost imperceptibly, as the monitor activated, clamping down onto his skin, instantly reading all his major vital signs. "I'll patch the signal back into my PADD. That way, if you have complications... or if you decide to pull another stupid stunt tonight instead of listening to my better judgment... I'll know." Leonard leaned in closer as he pulled Jim's sleeve down over the monitor, hiding it. "And believe me, I'll know."

Jim met his eyes for just a few seconds before he looked down at his arm, and spoke just above a whisper. "Why?" was all he said, but Leonard knew what he meant.

"Because, Jim," Leonard said softly, "I enjoy looking out for you." He clapped Jim lightly on the shoulder. "I have a midterm exam tomorrow, and I know you have at least one, too. But tomorrow is Friday, and then we've got the whole weekend. And I... expect to see you back here tomorrow night at 1900 hours for a follow-up. Do you understand me?"

"I... yes."

Leonard nodded. "Now, here are the rules. If you come through that door tomorrow night, hold out your arm, and say, 'I'm fine,' then the game is over. I'll take off the monitor, and if you want, I'll never mention this again. I don't get off on pressuring people into doing things they don't want to do. Not my game. But if you come through that door and ask, 'What's the prognosis?'... then you follow my instructions, and I promise I'll take good care of you." He kept it simple, letting Jim's imagination fill in the rest, which he was sure must have been detailed, by the way Jim's eyes widened just slightly. "Got it?"

Swallowing nervously, Jim nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it." He stood, took a half-step towards the door, then stopped. He glanced back at Bones uneasily, an unspoken question hovering behind his eyes.

"What, Jim?"

"You've done this before?" he asked, his voice breathy with astonishment.

Leonard finally grinned. "Oh yeah," he drawled easily. "Come on, Jim, you didn't think I was a prude, did you?"

"Well, no, but..." There was a sharp intake of breath, and Jim shook his head in stunned amazement. "Damn, Bones. Now I don't know what to think."

"Who said you had to think?"

Jim blinked a few times, processing that. " _Shit_. You... you're _into_ this sort of thing?"

At that, Leonard had to chuckle. "Jim, I figured you'd be the first to realize that most doctors have a bit of a sadistic streak. Including me." He enjoyed the shudder that worked its way up Jim's spine, and let a sly edge tint his grin. "I've... explored that a bit. Yeah, I'm into it. It's been a while, and I think this might be fun."

Another little spark of hope seemed to light behind Jim's wary expression, but then he frowned. "I don't want to burden you."

Leonard couldn't hold back the sarcastic snort. "Think about that the next time you get too drunk to walk straight and I have to half-carry you home. You're heavy, you know that?" It was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Jim seemed to close up again, looking down at his feet. Leonard reached up and put his hands on Jim's shoulders. "Jim, if I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't do it, plain and simple. It's not a burden. Not in the slightest. I intend to enjoy this, too. Got it?"

Jim nodded, but didn't look up.

"Jim? Hey, are you okay?"

Silently, Jim nodded again, hesitated, then shook his head, just a bit. "Just feeling a bit... raw right now."

Frowning, Leonard looked Jim in the eyes. The kid had just revealed something that was obviously extremely personal, and Leonard knew that a lot of people who discovered their kinky side went through a gauntlet of emotions about it - fear, guilt, shame. It was especially true of people whose emotional lives hadn't been great to begin with. Jim had a very comfortable mask of confidence that he wore, but he held it in place with his secrets and his privacy. He'd just torn away one of those secrets that he'd clearly held very tightly, and the normally confident, cocky Jim Kirk had been left exposed and vulnerable.

He let his frown soften into something that could have been mistaken for a smile. "I understand." And before Jim could protest, Leonard pulled him into a tight, secure hug and held him for a moment, feeling both protective and even a touch possessive. "Don't feel embarrassed, Jim, and don't feel guilty unless you go out and hurt yourself - which you'd better not do. Got it?" He felt Jim nod against his shoulder, and he broke the embrace. "Okay then, you go back to your dorm room and study. Take care of yourself, and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Okay." And without another word, Jim turned around and walked out the door, his footsteps tentative and reserved, not the bold stride he normally used.

Leonard watched him go, and after a moment of staring thoughtfully at the closed door, he went and sat down on his couch, putting his feet up and leaning back. This was certainly an unexpected development, but not an unwelcome one. Well, he didn't exactly welcome the manner in which he'd discovered this - generally, he didn't prefer to find his friends unconscious on the floor. He wanted to be angry at himself for having kicked Jim out earlier, but he'd had no way of knowing what Jim had really been looking for. Hell, he had to wonder if Jim knew what Jim was looking for. Perhaps he wanted nothing more than the physical rush, but somehow Leonard didn't quite buy that. Perhaps it was the psychological thrill, but Leonard suspected something deeper. He was sure it wasn't about the sexual gratification, because whatever else Jim hadn't quite mastered in his life, the act of the good hard fuck was something of an art form to the kid. Whatever the deeper motivation and the real goal might be, however, he would guess that Jim wouldn't want it from anyone else... but that was okay. Strangely, Leonard rather liked that idea.

One thing he knew, with absolute certainty, was that he _did_ enjoy taking care of Jim, even when the kid exasperated him beyond all measure. Enjoyed giving Jim what he needed, even when he couldn't ask for it. In a way, he had to admit, he felt possessive of him. Jim had listed him as his primary physician within a month of meeting him, and his primary contact before the end of their first semester. It was more trust than he'd ever shown towards anyone else, but he still kept his own walls in place, his own fortress and facade of self-reliance, his need to appear unquestionably independent. He'd never fully let himself go. Jim had saved Leonard's life once, and he trusted Jim explicitly and implicitly. Maybe Jim needed to feel that sort of trust for someone else.

Only tomorrow would tell.

Shrugging to himself, Leonard reached over and grabbed his PADD. He activated the biomonitor program and tapped into the signal from the sensor he'd strapped to Jim's wrist.

For a few minutes, he watched the readouts on Jim's vital signs while musing over the situation. Heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, adrenaline levels, oxygen saturation... really, when he thought about it, this stuff was intimate information; every physical measure of Jim was there on his screen for him to read. Even his location could be tracked. Leonard got a funny feeling in his gut when he realized that, in essence, he'd just stuck the equivalent of a training collar on Jim. It hadn't been his intent, but that was essentially what he'd done, and he wondered if Jim would recognize the possible implication. Even more, he wondered if he should feel guilty for the twist of pleasure the idea gave him, but he didn't.

Jim was moving slowly across campus. Adrenaline high, heart rate elevated, respiration more rapid than it needed to be, but he seemed okay. The tracker followed him across the campus quad, past his own dorm, and out to the old wooden pier on the edge of campus. It was an unseasonably warm spring evening, and Leonard could almost picture Jim wandering out onto the pier, sitting on the edge, and dangling his feet over the side as he listened to the wind and the waves, trying to see the Bridge through the fog. Jim did that sometimes; he said it helped him to relax. Slowly, Jim's adrenaline level dropped back to normal, his heart rate slowed, and his breathing evened out. Leonard smiled at that. There would be plenty of time to kick those things into high gear tomorrow night. For now, Jim needed space to think, and it was good that he was calming down.

Leonard knew he had to study, but even with his class materials displayed on another panel, he kept watching Jim's monitor display until the kid began moving again, back towards his dorm, at a much more lively pace. Jim's normal pace.

Yeah, the kid would be fine.

  
*********

  
Leonard had to admit to himself that he was feeling just a tiny bit nervous as he waited for 1900 hours to arrive. Well, maybe more than a tiny bit. It had been a long time since he'd staged a scene like this, and he'd never done it with someone who was as close of a friend as Jim was. Never did this with someone who mattered like Jim did. Never with someone when he was so deeply concerned that if it went wrong, it could ruin something too valuable to lose. When he was in Dom mode, it was easy to be confident. Now, while waiting, wondering if Jim was even going to agree to this, he was left dangling and uncertain.

He'd done his best to keep up the distractions all day so he wouldn't harp on it too much. His midterm exam had gone smoothly that morning, and a clinic shift had kept him busy enough for the afternoon. While he was there, he'd made sure to restock his med kit, too. Then, it was back to his dorm room for a shower, a light dinner... and preparations.

His coffee table and chair had been pushed out of the way, making space for the massage table he'd set up, tucked into the sitting area, just out of the line-of-sight from the door. A surprisingly handy piece of furniture, he'd learned, after a rotation in an orthopedics and physical therapy clinic - it could be folded and tucked into a closet, but once set up, it was just the right height for a myriad of amusing pastimes. Much better for this sort of thing than a bed. His bed had enjoyed little recreation in recent months, and the massage table even less. He'd been too busy to think about it much lately, but he missed it, like a small piece of himself had been set aside in a box and forgotten.

This was different and yet the same as what he did in his real line of work; in both, there was the satisfying sense of knowing how to give someone exactly what they needed. When he'd first begun exploring his kinkier side, he'd felt guilty, then hesitant, wondering if he was violating some unspoken ethical code of his profession. But then he realized that when done right, BDSM was just another way of taking care of people. Sometimes a person needed physical healing, sometimes pleasure, sometimes pain, release, catharsis, compassion, or perhaps a delicate combination of all of those things. His own pleasure was in giving those things, and doing it well. An even deeper pleasure came from being trusted to do those things well. He'd tried to ignore that fact, but he craved that trust from Jim in a way that couldn't be put into words.

Very few women and even fewer men had ever been welcomed into his bedroom for such activities; he was very selective about the people he chose to invite. He'd never imagined he'd have reason to invite Jim. Never considered the possibility that Jim might be seeking such things. Never thought he'd have Jim stretched out on the table, waiting for his hands, waiting for his talents. The mental image sent a small jolt through his stomach as he stood staring at the table before he finally was able to pry his eyes away from it.

From the bottom drawer of his dresser, he pulled out a small box. The tools of the trade, or at least the ones he figured he might use tonight. There were a few options available, and as always, he didn't decide on the details until things got underway. He set the box on the coffee table, next to his med kit. The only tool he left visible on the table was the tricorder. Other things would be set out as needed, when the time was right.

With that, he pulled a clean scrub top over his undershirt, slumped into his chair, and instructed the computer to increase the temperature in the room. He grabbed the PADD from the coffee table and tapped the screen to call up the biosensor readings from the monitor on Jim's wrist. His eyebrow immediately shot up.

With more than fifteen minutes left to go, Jim was already waiting outside the dorm room door... and he was pacing. By the looks of it, he was also nervous as hell. Elevated heart rate, evidence of muscle tremors. Judging by the blood glucose levels, he probably hadn't eaten lunch. Maybe skipped breakfast, too. The kid was really working himself into a state. Leonard frowned his concern at the PADD screen, but didn't move from the chair. No, he had to let Jim work this out himself, and hit the hailing chime when he was ready. For the first time since the previous night, Leonard _really_ wasn't sure what Jim would say when he finally walked through the door.

The minutes ticked by. Leonard's gaze wavered between the PADD and the door. Jim would pace, then stop, then pace again. Damn, the kid was anxious. 1857 hours. 1859 hours. 1900. 1902. Leonard frowned. 1905. With a grumble, Leonard put the PADD down on the coffee table and started to move towards the door when the chime sounded. Breathing a sigh of both relief and renewed nervousness of his own, he said, "Come in, Jim."

The door opened, and Jim walked in looking peaky and anxious, but he squared his jaw and looked Bones straight in the eye and asked, "So, what's the prognosis, Bones?"

Leonard wanted to rush forward and grab Jim into a hug, partially out of relief, and partially to keep the kid from tipping over, but instead he gave him a sincere look of disapproval. "Jesus, Jim, you look like hell." He grabbed Jim by the arm, but instead of leading him to the table, he sat him down in the armchair. "I mean it, Jim. You seriously look like hell. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"I had to study."

Leonard fixed him with a sharp glare as he grabbed his tricorder. "Jim, let's get one thing straight right now. Don't ever lie to me in here. Don't even avoid answering a question. Got it?" At Jim's reluctant nod, Leonard said, "Good. Now try it again."

Jim shrugged. "Kinda hard to sleep when your mind is racing at warp seven."

"Hmmm," Leonard hummed, studying the readout. "And when was the last time you ate anything?"

"I had dinner."

" _Jim._ "

"Yesterday."

Leonard gritted his teeth in frustration. "I told you to take care of yourself. I can't let you play these games when you're running on fumes." He put down the tricorder and gave Jim a level stare. "If we do this again, you make sure you've had a healthy meal about two or three hours before arriving. Got it?"

"Yes, Bones," Jim said quietly.

Another thought occurred to Leonard, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Jim, you didn't do that on purpose, did you?"

Vehemently shaking his head, Jim blurted out in a rush, "No! I seriously... I couldn't sleep, Bones. And... I was so fucking nervous that it made me nauseous. Went to the mess hall for lunch and I had to leave. I'm sorry. I have no idea what you've got in mind, but if I've fucked it up for the day, I can leave -"

Before Jim's move to stand up had become more than a twitch, Leonard had his hand on Jim's shoulder, holding him in place, unable to ignore his own momentary flash of panic that he'd scared Jim off before they'd even started. "No, Jim. Stay." _Please stay._ "And listen for a minute. I told you that if you walked back through that door and asked for the prognosis, that I'd take care of you. So that's what I'm going to do." He reached over and grabbed his med kit and began rummaging around as he spoke. "But in the meantime, you listen up a bit." He found the vial he was looking for - a basic nutrient booster - and snapped it into a hypospray.

"What's that?" Jim asked nervously.

"Easy, Jim. That's the first thing I'm going to tell you." He held up the hypospray. "Everything I ever do to you, whether I'm treating an actual injury or indulging in a bit of recreation, I'll let you know what I'm doing, what I'm using, and how it's going to effect you. This, for example, is functional medical treatment - just a nutrient supplement because you haven't eaten all day. B-vitamins, electrolytes, and glucose." He reached over and pressed it against Jim's neck. Jim flinched at the sting, but didn't even start to duck away. Leonard nodded in approval. "This will hold you for an hour. After we're done, you're staying here and having a bite to eat."

"Okay," Jim said, lightly rubbing the spot on his neck where the hypospray had connected.

"Second," Leonard said, discarding the empty cartridge and placing the hypospray back on the table, "before we do this again, we're going to have to discuss details. And don't cower away from it, Jim. You can't do this stuff without open communication. I need to know what you want, what you don't want, what you think you might want, and what you never want under any circumstances. In detail. Got it?"

Jim nodded.

"Say it out loud."

"Yes, Sir."

Leonard raised an eyebrow at how smoothly the 'Sir" had rolled off Jim's lips, but how odd it still sounded. "I'm not a 'sir,' Jim."

Jim glanced at him questioningly, and his mouth formed a small "o" as he realized what Leonard meant. "Yes, Doctor."

The sight of a compliant and agreeable Jim Kirk calling him 'doctor' was a pleasure that Leonard hadn't thought he'd ever experience, and he let the small thrill of it work its way up his spine. _Now if only I could get him to do that the rest of the time_ , he thought cynically, but still, this alone was almost enough to make the whole venture worthwhile. On the surface, he only gave a slight smile of approval with a nod of his head. "That's better."

Just faintly, Jim blushed.

 _Much better_ , Leonard thought happily. Then he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in front of him. "Now, normally, I wouldn't do any of this without a thorough discussion and negotiations first, but since when have I done _anything_ the normal way with you?"

Jim tried for a sly smile, failing miserably, and Leonard rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. I think I know you well enough to get started. For today, we're going to keep it simple. No fancy, embarrassing safewords. That's not my style anyway. If I ask you a question, you answer it straight up. Other than that, the key words are red, yellow, and green. Green should be obvious. If you say 'yellow,' I'll slow down, pause, wait, or ease up on whatever I'm doing, and I'll wait for you to tell me if you're ready to continue or if you need to stop. 'Red' means 'stop everything.' It means the scene is over immediately, completely, and I'll bring you back down and help you come back to yourself. And Jim, if you need to stop, you better damn well say something, you understand?"

Jim only furrowed his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

Leonard had to hold back a growl. "Don't play that game with me, Jim. I know you're the tough guy, and you like to prove just how much you can take. I already _know_ how tough you are, so don't try to prove anything here. That's not what this is about."

"I know," he said hoarsely. "I get that."

"Then get this, Jim - you're here because you trust me. You've got to trust that I'm not going to do anything without your consent, and that the instant you need it to stop, I'll stop." He leaned closer. "And just the same, I need to trust you to be honest with me. That means that if you need to stop, you _say_ so."

"Yes, Doctor," he said again, but it was a weak sort of whisper, and he was looking down.

Leonard frowned. Sure, he wanted Jim to listen, to be a bit quieter than usual, but even so, this was just too quiet and nervous for the kid. "Jim, if this is too much, you don't have to do it. If you're not ready, we don't have to do it today." He reached out and lightly touched Jim's chin, prompting him to look up. When he finally made eye contact, Leonard said, "I'm not your Master, Jim. That's not my thing. I don't get off on making people do things they don't want to do. I'm pretty sure you want to do this, but if you look like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I won't be able to handle that. So tell me - do you want this?"

Jim's Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Yes, I do."

Leonard gave Jim a long, scrutinizing look, hunting for any sign of uncertainty in his eyes, silently fearful that he'd find it. If he did, then it was over before it could begin. "Are you sure, Jim?"

The hesitation slowly resolved into something brighter - the spark of trust and willingness, even eagerness, that he needed to see before he could start. Still clouded by nervousness, but it was there. "Yes."

It was all Leonard could do to keep from letting out a long breath of relief. He was nervous, but he couldn't let Jim see it. It was Jim's place to be nervous just then, and Leonard's job to keep it all together. "Okay then," he said as he stood, stretching his shoulders. Right to the point, he gestured towards the massage table, feeling like he was ushering Jim through a forbidden door into his own little secret. Forcing himself to keep his voice steady, calm, _clinical_ , he said, "Stand up, take your clothes off, and hop up on the table there."

Leonard stepped back and gave Jim room, watching him as he kicked off his shoes, then methodically removed his shirt, then his pants, folding each item neatly and placing it on the chair. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled off his underwear. The only item left on his body was the monitor bracelet, still clamped tightly to the skin above his wrist. Stepping awkwardly, he crossed the room to the table. It was the first time in the almost two years he'd known Jim that Leonard thought he looked uneasy being naked. He wondered about that - why Jim would look so uneasy about his own nudity - but also couldn't help but take the opportunity to enjoy a good look.

He'd always known it was a nice view. He'd seen Jim naked in locker rooms, and to his displeasure a couple of times in the operating room, but for the first time, he felt like he was allowed to really take it in. Couldn't suppress a grin at the sight. The kid sure kept himself fit, beyond the basic requirements for a Starfleet cadet. Always had to be the best, and if that body was anything to go by, he was measuring up in that category, too. More than just his body, though, the fact that it was _Jim_ sent a little thrill through him. There was something indefinable about their friendship, something that blurred lines they both hadn't bothered to delineate, and the sight of Jim right there, naked at his command, somehow suggested that a new line had been drawn. The flush of heat Leonard felt across his face told him that he liked it.

Still half-watching Jim as he hopped up onto the table, Leonard grabbed his PADD and checked the readout from the monitor bracelet.

Oh yeah, the kid was nervous. Which meant the first thing to do would be to get him to relax a bit.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's art at the end of this chapter! And yes, it's quite graphic.

  
Jim felt the cool material of the padded table against the skin of his butt and thighs and briefly wondered if he should have kept his underwear on for comfort. For that matter, he wondered if he should have kept it on for other reasons - whether Bones wanted to see him naked like this, whether he was assuming too much. Amongst the million questions that had stewed in his head since he'd walked out of Bones' room the previous night, he'd wondered what Bones was thinking about... well...

"Bones?"

He had his back to Jim, his body blocking the view of whatever he was doing on the small tray in front of him. "Yeah, Jim?"

He fidgeted, feeling the odd pulling sensation of his legs on the table surface. "You said you've done this before. When did you start?"

Bones tilted his head, still keeping his gaze down on his hands and the tray. "Oh, I started getting into this during my third year of med school. Med students had to practice certain techniques on each other. One of my classmates had a kink for it... and apparently a thing for me," he said easily. "I discovered that I liked it, too."

Jim blinked and shivered, imagining what it would be like to be Bones' practice partner, wondering what they'd done. He blew out a slow breath through pursed lips. "How often did you do stuff?"

"Used to do it pretty regularly. Sometimes once in a month, sometimes a couple of times in a week."

"You really do like it then?"

Bones chuckled. "I told ya, kid - I don't do things that I don't want to do."

Jim swallowed nervously, then cleared his throat. "Have you ever done it with... well... with guys?"

Bones looked back up over his shoulder, a look of utterly incredulous disbelief painted on his face. "Jim, you're angling to play with what some folks would consider to be pretty hardcore kink, you've known me for almost two years, and you're just now considering my sexual orientation?"

Jim felt his eyes go wide, and he shook his head. "No! I mean, I know that... well..."

Bones cut him off with another light chuckle as he looked back down at what he was doing, but kept talking. "Jim, I've been pretty much asexual since the divorce, but if you must know, I'm bi. And before you say anything else, I know your sexuality is defined by the phrase 'yes, please,' so don't worry. Besides, BDSM and sex aren't necessarily connected, you know. Of course, they can be..." His voice trailed off into another chuckle. He seemed quite focused on what he was doing on the tray.

"Oh," Jim breathed, both relieved and pleased, but already too jittery to be all that shocked by the revelation about his friend. He was more concerned about what Bones was doing that he couldn't see. There was the clanking of metal on metal, a few faint scraping noises, the tap of a plastic container as it was placed on the tray. A snapping sound. Bones tossed something into a small container off to the side, and then he was holding something up to the light -

"Shit, Bones, is that an old-fashioned _needle_?" He felt his stomach jump, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Bones didn't look back; he was intently watching what he was doing as he drew a small quantity of fluid from a vial into the syringe. "I've found," he said evenly, "that the old-fashioned stuff has much more of an impact in a scene like this. They still make these things... mostly because of this precise sort of demand." He put the vial aside and tapped the syringe, removing an air bubble, and capped it with a plastic cover. Then he turned and walked over. Jim couldn't pull his eyes away from the small device in Bones' hand. "Jim," Bones said, pressing lightly on his shoulder with his empty hand, "Lie down."

"What's in -"

"I told you," Bones interrupted, "that I'd explain everything as I go. You need to trust that."

Nodding edgily, Jim let himself be pushed back onto the table. The syringe was set on the table next to his head where he couldn't stop staring at it, and Jim wondered if Bones had done that on purpose to make him nervous, because it sure was working. Then Bones was fastening something around Jim's upper arm, which tightened as soon as he let it go.

"This is a very mild relaxant," Bones said as sat down on a tall stool by the side of the bed. "Now, make a fist and squeeze a few times. That's good." He reached over and tapped the inside of Jim's elbow a couple of times, observing closely. He must have been pleased by whatever he saw because he nodded as he picked up a small packet, ripped it open, pulled out an antiseptic pad, and deftly swabbed the inside of Jim's elbow with it. "It's a short-acting drug; won't make you feel drunk, and won't put you to sleep. But it'll keep you from having a panic attack while we get started, because in case you forgot, that monitor is still on your wrist, and your heart rate, blood pressure, and adrenaline levels are too high for my comfort." He picked up the needle and removed the cap. "Now hold still."

Bones' grasp on his arm was firm and surprisingly hot in the cool air of the room, and the sudden sharp stick of the needle against the vulnerable inner surface of his elbow drew every scrap of his attention to that single point. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it, and it was the most unusual sensation - a bite of pain, and a strange rush that came with it. His head spun, and he closed his eyes, feeling like the table was tilting and swaying beneath his back. A second later, he could feel the needle being withdrawn, and something was pressed down against the skin there as the band around his upper arm was loosened and removed.

"Jim? Are you okay?"

Jim opened his eyes to see Bones looking down at him, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. He nodded. "Yeah. Uh, yes, Doctor." His face felt flushed, and he could tell that he was breathing a bit too fast. Focusing on his own body, he tried to take a slow, deep breath.

Bones nodded in approval, not removing the pressure from the spot on his elbow, and using his other hand to check Jim's pulse manually. "Give it a few seconds. That stuff should start kicking in very quickly... there it goes."

It was like a wash of calmness - not drunk, not drugged, but Jim could feel his own heart slow down a bit, and the jitters that had been shaking him seemed to subside. The next deep breath he tried rose and fell in his chest smoothly and easily.

"Good... that's better," Bones said, releasing his arm. He reached over and grabbed a piece of fabric. "Now, this part is up to you. Blindfold - yes or no?"

Jim considered the blindfold in Bones' hand and blinked a couple of times. He was struck by the fleeting thought that it actually seemed easier to think clearly with the relaxant that Bones had given him - like his mind had stopped racing around in circles. It made him feel a bit more confident as he shook his head. "I want to be able to see what you're doing. If I need to close my eyes, I will."

Bones nodded, actually giving a small smile of approval. "I figured I'd offer, but I prefer that, too. It's easier to watch your reactions this way." He put down the blindfold, but picked up something else. "But these... are non-negotiable today."

Before Jim could put two and two together, he felt the soft but tough fabric of a medical-grade restraint being fastened around his left wrist, tugging as it was attached to the side of the table, pinning his arm down. Once he'd secured it, Bones pressed his fingers against the skin on the inside of Jim's wrist, prodding gently. Before Jim could ask, Bones explained, "Checking for circulation. If I can feel your pulse below the cuff, then it's not too tight. Right there, good. But if you start to feel your hands or feet tingling, you let me know, got it?"

Jim could only nod in reply, which must have been deemed good enough. The drug in his system might have relaxed him physically, but it did nothing to prevent the heady buzz he felt as Bones worked his way around the table, firmly tethering each limb into place, then checking each extremity for circulation. Each cuff, each limb, each time Bones touched his skin, it was with absolute focus, and Jim could almost _feel_ the pointed attention being drawn to that spot, dragging his own attention with it. The awareness of his own body increased with each cuff; awareness drawn out and neatly delineated with the focus and precision Bones was putting into every touch. He'd never felt such keen attention being paid to him like that before - at least, not when he was fully conscious or cognizant. The attention, the focus... it was as much of a rush as the actual feel of skin against his, the sensation of the cuffs holding his limbs down against the table, and the trust - the _absolute_ trust - that Bones was taking care of him.

It was like foreplay. No, it was better than foreplay, because he'd done that hundreds of times - the flirting, the kissing, the heated push of skin on skin - but this was different. This was precise, methodical, deliberate. He was the center of someone else's attention, and of all the people whose attention he wanted, it was Bones. The only person he really trusted enough to do something like this. Hell, he was the only person who'd ever shown any real, personal level of concern for Jim's well-being, which was something that had consistently caused some undefinable emotion in Jim, something warm and breathless, something he'd never admitted aloud. It had started the day they'd met. And then, with the number of times Jim had landed himself in the infirmary with Bones lecturing him and prodding him and jabbing him with hyposprays and putting him back together again... yeah, Bones was absolutely right; he hated being injured, looking weak, or dealing with most doctors, but he loved it when Bones took care of him. Nobody else ever really had, not like that. He didn't trust most people to do it, but he trusted Bones. Goddammit, he did.

Jim almost hadn't noticed that Bones had finished securing the last cuff in place around his left ankle, lost in the distant fog of thoughts and... arousal.

Bones had run a hand up Jim's leg from the ankle cuff, and had stopped on his hip. "Well Jim, if there was any question about your personal kinks before, those questions are good and answered," Bones said, a hint of sarcastic amusement in his voice. He reached into the pocket of his scrub top and pulled out something shiny. It took Jim a heartbeat to realize what it was.

"Oh God..."

"I prefer to be called 'Doctor,' but if you insist..."

Jim groaned, but Bones just chuckled deeply as he reached over and slid the cock ring into place around Jim's rapidly awakening dick, making him shudder. "The reason for this is simple, and twofold." He sounded so calm, so clinical, that it made Jim shiver again, even more deeply. "First," Bones continued, "we're going to need it later, and it's easier to put it there now, before you get hard. Second, when you're aroused, things that your body would normally process as pain feel different. After a point, it all becomes sensation."

Jim swallowed thickly, feeling like the ring was tightening around his throat as much as his cock. He had never thought, could never have imagined, that Bones could ever say things like that so smoothly, so naturally. Bones' easy confidence was just as strong as when he was working in the clinic, only now, it was underlined by a thread of something else, something heavy and controlling. Jim felt his brain short-circuit, and he said the first thing that came to mind. "So you're going to hurt me?"

Immediately, Bones frowned, leaned slightly closer, and put a gentle hand on Jim's neck, fingers resting against the pulse of his carotid artery. The contrast that struck Jim was between Kestra's hands around his neck yesterday, and the way Bones was touching him now. He could feel his own pulse beat in his neck, thrumming against Bones' fingers, and realized that he knew that Bones would never hurt him, and he'd been stupid to ask. Bones seemed to recognize the realization Jim was feeling, because he nodded in approval. "Jim, pain is in the body's interpretation of sensation. I'm going to do things that most people's bodies would interpret as pain... most of the time. Somehow, tonight, I think you're going to like it. But I will never do something that will damage you. That's the difference between the stupid shit you did yesterday... and what we're going to do here."

"Why Bones," Jim said, trying to keep his voice steady but failing, "you do care."

At that, Bones snorted. "I care enough to inflict the very best." He brushed his hand lightly from Jim's neck to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze before turning away. Again, Jim couldn't see what he was doing on the tray that had been set up, but then Bones was carrying the tray closer. He hesitated, then gave Jim a searching look. "Last chance for that blindfold."

A small jolt clenched through Jim's stomach, but he shook his head, both nervous and excited. "No way."

Bones nodded, then set the tray down.

Jim felt his eyes almost pop out of his head. At least a dozen needles, each in what he assumed were sterile sheaths, were lined up on the tray. He wanted to say something, but his mouth didn't seem to be cooperating.

"Jim," Bones said, placing a hand on his chest, "look at me. Good. Remember that you have veto power here. If you trust me enough to let me go forward with this, I can almost guarantee that you'll enjoy it. But say the word, and it ends now."

Slowly, feeling oddly detached from his body, Jim made himself nod. "Go ahead."

"Okay then." Moving confidently, Bones took a small device from the tray - Jim realized he hadn't even been able to see anything except the needles - and activated it. "This is just a dermal sterilizer," he said as he began running it over Jim's chest. "Sure, I might be willing to turn you into a pincushion, but not at any risk of infection." The sterilization unit hummed along as Bones drew it up Jim's shoulder, then down his right arm. A moment later, it traced his left arm, and Jim caught on. If Bones was sterilizing a spot, he was probably going to stick a needle through it. The anticipation itself was enough to make him shiver.

_Holy shit._

"You sure you're okay with this?"

Jim blinked and realized that he'd spoken aloud. "Yeah," he choked. "Yeah. It's good."

"Okay, then listen. Here's where I'm going to tell you to keep talk to a minimum." He ran the sterilizer over his own hands, then put it down and picked up the first needle. "Green, yellow, and red. Got it?"

"Got it," Jim replied, hearing his own voice mixing with the blood rushing in his ears. Was that relaxant drug wearing off already, or was he just _that_ fucking nervous? And at the same time, did he really care? The feel of his heart pounding in his chest and breath rushing in his lungs was already exhilarating, and goddammit he felt alive and this was just what he'd been hoping for. The rush was heightened by the absolute knowledge that Bones knew exactly what he was doing... that it was safe; that it was okay. He was okay. "Okay."

"Good. Then relax, be quiet, and just feel. I've got you." Bones gave him a steady look, then neatly twisted the sterile cap off the first needle, discarding it on the tray. He leaned closer and put his hand on Jim's upper left arm. "Hold still."

Jim had meant to keep his eyes open, but at the first sting of the needle against his shoulder, he squeezed his eyes shut.

The whole world zoomed in to that fine point, sharp and biting, piercing through his skin, sliding, burning - he could feel it all. He held his breath, then gasped, then panted. There was the stinging burn in his shoulder, the tide of air in his lungs, and the frantic thud of his heart in his chest. His breath caught, and he dug his fingers into the table pad as the table began to sway beneath his back and blood was rushing in his ears and _goddammit holy fucking hell_.

"... _breathe, Jim._ JIM!"

Jim forced his eyes open to see Bones leaning close over his face. There was a hand grabbing his chin, and suddenly he felt Bones thump a closed fist against his sternum. He coughed reflexively, and sucked in a deep breath, then another, gasping for a moment as his body demanded more air. The room seemed to steady around him - _when did it start spinning?_ \- and he found his voice. "I... I'm fine, Bones. Holy hell... that's just one needle, right? No drugs - just a piercing?"

Bones nodded, releasing Jim's chin and leaning back away from him. "Piercing causes an endorphin rush, Jim, and depending on how sensitive a person is to it, a bunch of other physiological responses. Looks like you're sensitive. But you need to breathe through it - don't hold your breath like that. Here," he said, grabbing a cup of water from nearby with a straw in it. "Take a drink, settle yourself."

Jim automatically took a sip as the straw was placed between his lips, swallowed, and asked nervously, "We're not stopping, are we?"

Bones rolled his eyes and chuckled. "You're quite the little goddamned masochist, aren't you?" he asked, putting the straw back between Jim's lips. "Jim, if your need for fight-or-flight adrenaline is satisfied by what I can do here, where I know you're not going to actually get hurt, then no, I won't stop." He waited for Jim to stop drinking, then set the cup aside. "Ready for another?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"You like that, don't you?" he asked as he reached for the next needle and pulled off the cap.

"Yes, I -" Jim's ability to speak cut off as soon as Bones grabbed his arm again, lower this time. His brain shut down as he felt the slight stretch as Bones pulled his skin taut, and again, he couldn't keep his eyes open when he felt the sharp point bite into his tricep. Slow and drawn out, the thin sliver of metal was slowly embedded in his arm, and it finished with another sharp throbbing sensation as the end of the needle pierced through his skin from underneath - in, under, then out again. This time, he was aware of the whole thing, and the room didn't spin as badly. He couldn't help himself - he squirmed slightly, and realized that the odd sensations ringing through his body seemed to resonate from the two needles now embedded in his arm straight down to his dick. "Damn..."

"Green, yellow, or red, Jim. Not 'damn.' I want you to relax and feel everything, not talk, not think. Got it?"

"Yes. Green," Jim breathed, biting back the temptation to elaborate. And really, with Bones' command, the strange fuzzy sensation that was slowly creeping up on him seemed to accelerate. His skin felt warm, his body felt strange and tense and relaxed all at once. "Green," he said again, closing and opening his eyes slowly.

He watched, feeling both vividly aware and strangely detached, as Bones picked up the next needle. The snapping sound, a hand gripping his elbow and pinning his arm firmly in place, and the bite of metal on flesh. This time, he didn't close his eyes, and watched intently - not his own arm, but Bones. The tightly focused look on Bones' face was almost as intense as the feel of the needle threading through his arm. He breathed through it, feeling light-headed and... and... he couldn't even think.

With the needle fully embedded, Bones spared him a glance, but without a word, grabbed the next one. Jim barely had a chance to take a few breaths before his world was narrowed to the width of the needle pushing through his skin, this time through his forearm. His face felt hot and cold at once, every inch of his body tingling, and he was sinking and falling into something that was soft and comforting but sharp and piercing all at once. Through the haze around him, he heard Bones move, and the rattle of the tray. The noises shifted, and Bones was on his right side.

Then there was a hand on his face, and Bones pulled back one of his eyelids. "Still with me, Jim?"

It was all Jim could do to nod and whisper, "Green." He didn't want this to end. It hurt, but it didn't. The pain wasn't only pain now; it was a heady sensation overwhelming his brain and his body, drawing every nerve and scrap of awareness to pinpoints. Distantly, he remembered the restraints around each ankle and wrist, holding him bound to the table, but it was each needle that was holding him tethered to reality, still throbbing lightly in his arm, not letting him forget that it was there, and not letting him forget that Bones had put it there, and only Bones could remove it. At the crux of everything was his trust that Bones would take care of everything. That's what was holding him the tightest, keeping him from struggling, stopping him from demanding to be released so he could leap from the table and run from the room - Bones. Trust. It was a strange spell that seemed to have descended over him, and he didn't want to break it.

Bones seemed to sense this, released his eyelid, and took hold of his right arm. A moment later, another needle was piercing his shoulder, being threaded through his deltoid, a perfect mirror of what Bones had done to his left arm. Sharp and precise, a smooth motion that pierced and penetrated, all held in place by the feel of Bones' rough, dry fingers, hot against his arm. Through the strange haze, Jim anticipated the sounds and motions, the sensations and reactions, like a rhythm Bones was setting. Now that he felt he knew where the next needles were going, he sunk into the rhythm willingly, eagerly, breathing in time, riding each one as it came and went. His whole body was awake and alive and nothing existed beyond the bite of the next needle and Bones... Bones' fingers and steady breathing and skillful ministrations and... reaching up and checking the pulse on Jim's neck, sending a deep shudder through him.

"How're you doing in there, Jim?"

"Good. I... green." Jim opened his eyes and saw Bones looking down at him with something between a satisfied smile and a clinical observation. It made Jim shudder again.

Bones withdrew his hand from Jim's neck with a nod. "Pulse is nice and steady, and you seem stable enough for the next part." He picked up another needle and twisted off the cover with a snap.

Jim blinked. _Four per arm... eight... there were... twelve on the tray?_ He glanced over at the tray and saw three more needles lying there. He looked back up at Bones, who was standing closer to him now... leaning closer.

One hand was hot and heavy over Jim's sternum, pressing down lightly, and Bones held up the needle in Jim's line of sight. "This is a bit more sensitive." He leaned down and held the needle poised over Jim's chest, aimed at his left pectoral, just above the heart that had just started thundering furiously in that chest. "Take a deep breath, Jim. Do it now."

Unable to think beyond following exactly what Bones was saying, and unable to tear his eyes away from the point of the needle, Jim took as deep of a breath as he could.

"Now let it all out and hold still."

Jim watched his own chest fall, as if from a distance, but held his head up and watched as the Bones deftly pulled his skin taut, and stabbed. The needle broke the skin, then threaded along underneath it, raising a welt as it moved, and then with a twist of his wrist, Bones angled it back out so that the point once again broke the skin with a sharp sting. The burn in his skin was intense. His chest was on fire, and his head dropped back against the table.

"Breathe, Jim."

Like a switch had been flipped at the command, air flooded his lungs, and a wave of vertigo rocked him as he closed his eyes. Too much... too much... "Yellow."

In an instant, Bones had that warm hand back against his sternum, like one stable point in a world spinning out of control, and the other hand back up to his pulse point. "Easy there, Jim. Deep, slow breaths. Some people react more strongly to visuals than others. Here, take a drink."

The hand on his pulse moved away, and a second later, Jim felt the drinking straw against his lips. He took a couple of small sips, letting the coolness of the water stand against the burn in his skin, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Do you need me to take that one out?"

Jim shook his head.

"Words, Jim. Talk to me."

He clenched his teeth. The heady buzz was still there, and he didn't want this to be over. Not yet. There was more, and he could feel it. Wanted it. Wanted all of it. "I'm good," he breathed. "I think I shouldn't look though. At least... not while you're doing it." He tentatively opened his eyes. "Tell me you're taking care of everything." It wasn't technically a question, but he put the plea in his voice, and Bones heard it.

Reaching up, Bones gently put his hand over Jim's eyes and coaxed his eyelids shut. Jim leaned into the touch, surprisingly soft and comforting. A moment later, that hand was on Jim's cheek, and Bones' voice was steady and reassuring. "I've got you, Jim. And yes, I'm taking care of everything. You'll be okay. Keep your eyes closed, and just trust me. Three more to go, Jim. I know you can take it."

Jim couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped his lips, and the sensation of being overwhelmed that he'd felt a moment ago was already dissolving back into that heady world of floating. The light pulsing twinges from each needle in his arms and the sharper one on his chest hummed and tingled in his skin. Bones' hands seemed to radiate compassion as surely as heat, as capable of giving pleasure as they were of giving pain, and the lines between the two were blurred... perfectly and exquisitely blurred. Jim nodded. "I can. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Okay then, I'm right here. Listen to my voice." The hands were withdrawn, and there was the now-familiar snapping sound, then one hand was back on his chest, just below where the previous needle had been placed. "Breathe in. Good. Let it out and hold it... now."

Without the visual, all he felt was the welcome sting of the needle, the burn, and the rush that came with it. Another snapping sound. Hand on the right pectoral.

"Deep breath in..."

It was the easiest and most natural thing in the world, following the directions Bones was giving. The needles still hurt, but they didn't, not really. He was wrapped back in that thick cocoon, and his awareness extended only to the most immediate sensations and sounds. Nothing existed beyond the the bite and burn of the needles, the warm fingers on his chest, and Bones' voice floating through all of it. When the final needle was in, he felt a flash of disappointment. "Bones..."

"You're okay, Jim. They're all in."

"I know, but..." He opened his eyes to see Bones with his back to him, and once again, he was manipulating something on the tray. "Bones?"

"No, Jim. We're not done yet." He turned around, holding a syringe, and Jim flinched out of innate reflex more than fear. "Relax. There's nothing sharp on this one. No needle. It contains a topical gel."

"Topical?" Jim asked, really not sure where this was going... literally.

Bones chuckled lightly. "Now that you're high as a kite on endorphins - and Jim, you should see the numbers right now - I've got something else that I was hoping to try on you, and it looks like you're ready for it. This gel relaxes involuntary muscle... specifically the tissues of the urethral wall. It also doubles as an antiseptic, and an excellent lubricant."

Jim felt his eyes widen. "That's going in -"

He was cut off as Bones took a grip on his cock, which was still hard and sensitive, and positioned the syringe against the slit. "This will feel cool, and it might tingle a little bit, but it won't hurt." With that, he slowly began to press down on the plunger.

It was possibly the oddest sensation Jim had ever felt. Cool and viscous, the gel was forced down the inside of his cock, tingling as it went, and Jim had never been so acutely aware of his own dick in his life. He found himself panting and shivering, unable to control it, and not really caring that he wasn't. He was turned on, but not in any way he'd ever experienced it before. He watched as best he could through lidded eyes as Bones finished injecting the full contents of the syringe, then pulled it away and dropped it in a small container on the tray, never taking one warm hand off his cock.

"Oh god," Jim breathed, trying to stay centered as yet another sensation was added to the rapidly growing list of things on his body that were vying for his attention. The tingling, the coolness, the slickness - "Wait, you said _lubricant_?"

"I did," Bones said evenly. "Give it a minute, Jim. Wait for the gel to start working."

"It's working. It's... it's tingling, I can feel it." He swallowed. "What do you need lubricant for?"

Bones sighed with an enigmatic smile. "You know, if we do this often enough, eventually, you'll start to trust that I will tell you everything, Jim." He reached over to the tray and picked up a long, thin piece of metal. It had a gentle curve to it, a rounded tip, and a thicker ball at the end that Bones was holding, pinched between his fingers. "This is a sound, and yes, it goes _there_."

There was a glint of something sadistic finally showing in Bones' easy grin, and it sent a shiver shooting through every aching and throbbing point on Jim's body, coming right back down to his groin. He squirmed and flexed against the restraints, not really sure if he was trying to angle his hips further away from Bones' grip, or push his cock more firmly into the doctor's hand. Between the slightly feral look that had taken over his friend and the insane mix of sensations bombarding him, he knew he was gone. "Oh man..."

"Why Jim, it seems you like this idea," Bones fucking _crooned_ at him. "Ever thought about this before?"

"I... urgh... I've... yes, okay?" he gasped out between pants. He was too buzzed to avoid the admission, even if he'd wanted to... which he didn't. "Yes, I have... fuck..."

"Good to know," Bones said lightly as he shifted his grasp on Jim's cock. "So you might have some idea of how this works."

"Yes, I -"

"Shh. Quiet now, Jim." He held the sound over the tip of Jim's cock, and gave him a level look. "Quiet. Relax. Focus on breathing. Slow and steady."

Jim tried, he really did, but he couldn't quite suppress the way his hips jerked as the sound touched the tip of his cock. "Hold still, Jim," came Bones' voice from somewhere beyond the buzz that was ringing in Jim's ears again. Then the metal was pressing against the tip, and slowly sinking into his shaft as Bones eased it down. He'd wondered what this would be like, but he'd never dared to try it himself... and had never thought... never imagined... that someone else would be doing this to him. He tried to remember what Bones had told him, tried to breathe evenly and steadily, sucking in cool lungfuls of air as the sound eased into his urethra. Stretching, faintly burning, impossibly full but not painful, deeper and deeper, and then something cool and heavy pressed against the tip of his cock and everything went still.

"It's in," came Bones' voice from somewhere far away. "You can move if you need to."

An insane need to move struck Jim, but as he squirmed and shifted in place, the sensations and pressure from his cock increased exponentially, combining with the continued throbbing from the needles piercing his chest and arms. "Oh... oh god... goddamn... fuck." He writhed, feeling the tug of the restraints on his wrists and ankles tugging back at him. The restraints were oddly comforting, taking away the choice to move, taking away the choice to object... not that he would. He wouldn't. After a moment, he let himself sag against the table, head lolling, mouth open and gasping, and not caring that he probably looked totally exposed and debauched and wantonly desperate. Actually, he rather liked that idea. The coolness from the metal was fading... warming up from his body heat... settling and relaxing.

And then he felt an additional pressure on the sound in his cock. His eyes snapped open and he looked up to see Bones grinning with wicked delight. He was looking at his own hands; one hand supporting Jim's dick, and the other lightly gripping the sound... twisting.

Jim moaned, feeling the unbelievable sensation of metal and pressure rubbing the inside of him. It seemed to shoot straight to his core, twisting his stomach as surely as it was twisting his cock. He blinked and forced himself to look. Bones shot him a glance, then began to raise the sound out of his shaft, drawing out another moan from Jim's throat. Jim wasn't sure when he'd become so desperately aroused, but he didn't think he'd ever been so hard in his life, and now he understood the other reason Bones had put a cock ring on him. The sound was almost out, and Jim was torn between relief from the burning stretch and desperation to have it back in. He looked back up and caught Bones' eye and was barely able to groan out, "Please...Bones... green... please..."

Bones looked almost amused, despite the fact that his own eyes were dark and intense with a foreign type of arousal that went beyond the sexual. "Oh Jim," he drawled lightly, "if you thought this was it, you've got another thing coming."

With that, he began lowering the sound back in, and Jim was lost. He threw his head back, gasping and groaning, unable to stop the muscles throughout his body from clenching and twitching as he strained against his restraints, trying to hold still, but unable to fully control himself. Now he knew why Bones had insisted on the restraints, and he was glad of it. He was ready to jump out of his own skin. His whole body was on fire, and it was amazing.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that the art was done by Lizardspots. Go over to her LJ and tell her how amazing she is! :D


	4. Chapter 4

After a few seconds or a few minutes, Jim couldn't tell, Bones released his cock, the sound still in it. It felt odd and heavy, but he almost completely forgot about it when Bones' hands moved up to his arm, pulling Jim's awareness with them, and squarely back to the needles embedded there. There was a tugging and twisting sensation at the sharp point in his right forearm, and Jim realized that Bones was manipulating the needle in his arm. He whimpered, unable to find words, or even figure out what he'd want to say even if he could speak.

"This will keep your nerves awake here. I don't want you getting too comfortable, Jim, or slipping too deep into sub-space. I want you aware and cognizant for this." The hands moved up his arm to the next needle. Pressure, exquisite sharpness, and Jim swore the needle was connected to a nerve that went straight to his cock. "Keep breathing, Jim."

In a way, Jim couldn't understand why Bones needed to keep reminding him to breathe, but the burn in his lungs that had nothing to do with the burn in his skin seemed to confirm the necessity as Bones moved up to the third needle. Nerves firing, so intense, and he felt like he was on a g-force training shuttle, sailing up and down as forces beyond his control wreaked havoc on his body, leaving him wrung out and breathless with the all-consuming feeling of blood rushing in his ears. In the distance, he knew that Bones had moved to the needles on his chest - the faint pinch of pain, the spinning and flying sensation that gripped him, the feeling of sinking into the swirling darkness...

He was snapped back to a hazy reality by the unexpected thud of a fist against his sternum. He automatically coughed, then sucked in a deep lungful of air as Bones leaned over him, looking both worried and angry. "Goddammit, Jim, I told you - keep breathing. Focus with me, okay? There's a reason this is called edge-play, Jim - we're taking you up to the edge without letting you fall over it. You're new at this, so I'm taking you through slowly. I want this to end on a high note, _not_ with you going into shock because you forgot to breathe, got it? If I have to stick a respirator mask on you, so help me, this becomes a real medical incident, and the fun stops. And mark my word, I will."

There was no doubt in Jim's fuzzy mind that Bones wasn't bluffing. "Yes, Doctor," he breathed. "I'm fine. I'll do it." To illustrate his point, he took a deep, slow, controlled breath. No inclination to argue, none whatsoever. Somewhere, he was aware of the fact that he'd do just about anything Bones told him to do just then, without hesitation, and he wondered how the hell he'd become so pliant. Bones telling him what to do... and just going along with it, without question... so simple. He trusted it like he'd never trusted anything.

"Good. Then keep your eyes open this time, Jim. Focus on the ceiling. Slow, deep breaths."

As Bones' fingers moved from needle to needle, Jim's eyes moved from ceiling panel to ceiling panel. Willingly, determinedly, Jim focused on the air rushing into and out of his lungs as each needle twisted in place. By the time Bones had made it around to the left side of his body and was twisting the last one, the comforting yet startlingly alive buzz had descending over him again, moving with the ebb and flow of Bones' movements, words, commands. The hands never left his body, keeping him present and grounded in his own skin. It was good, very good, and through his muted awareness, he latched onto the simple fact and unwavering truth that as long as he listened to Bones, and did what he was told, everything would be good, very good.

And then Bones was moving back around to the right, and his hands were back on Jim's cock. Relaxed but acutely aware, Jim forced himself to breathe and focus as he felt pressure on the sound, and then the sensation of it being slowly, carefully withdrawn... but this time, it came all the way out. Jim writhed, straining with his hips. The arousal was both distant and intense, vivid and muted, and he wanted... wanted _something_. He let himself whimper, and Bones chuckled. "Not yet, Jim."

The hands were back, and something plastic was pressed against his urethral opening. "Just a bit more lubricant, Jim," Bones said as Jim felt the thick fluid being forced into him.

"More...?" Jim asked vaguely, torn between his curiosity and the raw sensation of what was being done to him. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, but he stopped when he felt a cool piece of metal touching the head of his cock.

"This one's a little bit bigger, Jim. Keep breathing, got it?"

Weakly, Jim nodded, and he tried to say yes, but it came out as a wordless whimper.

"Good. Now relax."

This wasn't just a _little_ bit bigger. At least, that's what Jim's nerves were screaming as the sound pressed in and sank into his cock, inch by mind-blowing inch. _Thank god he used more lube_ , Jim thought vaguely, but mostly, thinking was beyond his capability. The pressure on his cock was coming from the inside and the outside and everything was so tight and hot and cold and all he could manage was to keep breathing, in and out, in and out. Finally, it stopped moving and Jim looked down to see the rounded tip of the sound nestled snugly against the tip of his cock, and he could imagine the shaft of metal embedded through the entire length of it. Bones' hand was wrapped around his prick, not really squeezing, but supporting it. Having someone touching his cock wasn't anything new, but _this_ was something he'd never felt before. The sensation was so vivid, so strong, so fucking arousing, and he both desperately wanted Bones to stroke him, but feared that if he did, it would be too much... too much.

"You're doing really well, Jim," Bones said, his tone steady and reassuring. "Your blood pressure is a little bit high, so try to relax, okay?"

At that, Jim choked out a laugh. "Relax? Bones, you've got your hand wrapped around my cock, which is skewered by a piece of metal, a dozen needles stuck in my arms and chest, and you want me to relax?" It sounded like his own voice, and it sounded like something he'd say, but it didn't feel like the words were coming out of his own mouth.

"Yes, I do." He let go of Jim's cock and moved up, taking Jim's wrist in his hand, fingers pressing on his pulse. "I've got one more sound that I'm going to use on you. Just one. I want you to be ready for it, and I don't want you to blank out on me. Not until I let you. Now listen to me. Focus on my voice." With his one hand still monitoring Jim's pulse, his other hand began to run up Jim's arm, stopping at the first needle. "You've never had someone take care of you before. You've never _let_ someone take care of you before. You don't know how."

The needle did something strange against a nerve in Jim's arm, and he felt something jolt up his limb, and he twitched and gasped, but Bones held his arm firmly by the wrist. "Easy there, Jim. Listen, you're quite something when you're in charge, running the show. You're good at that. You don't have to let anyone else run things, you don't have to let yourself go in front of anyone you don't trust." The next needle twisted, and the rush up and down his body went right back to his aching cock. Bones kept talking. "But sometimes, even you need to let go, kid. You've needed this for longer than you know." The third needle tugged against the skin of his tricep, making him groan, but not struggle. "You trust me, or you never would have come here tonight. So relax, Jim. Let me do this. Relax." Fourth needle, fourth twist, a desperate moan, but Jim felt himself relaxing, lulled by the soft words. Acutely aware of his own body, Jim could almost feel his own heart slowing down, as if Bones could control that by his words alone, even as the rest of him seemed to shiver and throb with sensation. "Good. Good." Bones' grasp on his wrist was steady and firm. "How're you doing in there, Jim?"

"Green," Jim heard himself say, the response easy and clear, despite the strange echoing that seemed to reverberate through him as he said it.

"Good," Bones said once more, then he leaned in close and said in a low growl, "And I should mention... goddammit Jim, the sight of you right now is one of the hottest things I've ever seen."

Jim groaned as Bones released his wrist, struck by the throaty rumble in Bones' voice, the heavy, possessive gaze. _Holy fuck, he's getting off on this, too._

That tiny scrap of coherent thought was swept away a second later as those hands were back on his cock, and the sound was slowly eased out of his shaft, sending jolts through his groin and stomach. He wanted to writhe, wanted to touch himself, wanted to come, but this wasn't in his hands - this was up to Bones, and the only thing he could do was to relax and take it and experience every moment of it. There was something small and non-metallic held against the tip of his cock again, and Jim didn't need Bones to tell him that it was another bit of lubricant, but he did anyway. Calm and steady, despite the virtual assault on his senses, Bones was guiding him through it all, even as the cool metal of the last sound began to press into him.

The stretch was overwhelming and just on the edge of being unbearable, but it wasn't too much, wouldn't be too much. Bones wouldn't give him more than he could take. Bones had it all under control. Bones had _Jim_ under control, and that was okay. It was right. The sound sunk deeper, and just when Jim was sure that it had reached all the way to his core, it stopped.

"Look up, Jim."

Jim was beyond any ability to think for himself, and could only do exactly as he was instructed. He lifted his head to see the thick bulb of the sound at the top of his cock, pinched between Bones' thumb and forefinger. He couldn't pull his eyes away as Bones slowly twisted the sound between his fingers, couldn't do anything but continue to breathe as the sound was partially withdrawn and then sunk back into his cock, couldn't quite ignore the overwhelming urge to thrust his hips back up to meet it. Bones must have anticipated it, because he planted one hot, possessive hand on Jim's hip, holding him down and pinning him in place as surely as the restraints on his wrists and ankles.

"Damn, Jim, if you're not careful, I'm gonna think you're enjoying yourself or something."

It was a chuckle and a tease, but all Jim could think was that Bones was reading every wanton, desperate twitch of his body. "Nnnrgh!"

"Yes, I think you are." He wrapped his other hand around Jim's cock and tugged downwards lightly, and Jim realized that with every stroke, Bones was going to stimulate both the inside and outside of his prick. "Yes, that's it, kid. Just like that."

Jim shuddered. Bit his lower lip. Turned his head side to side, but couldn't stop looking away. "Bones," he panted. "Can you... can you..."

"I told you, Jim, let me take care of everything." Bones hand kept stroking gently, but the effect was anything but gentle. The welcome assault on every nerve in his cock was intense, as if it was pulling every other sensation in his body straight into his groin.

Jim blinked and stared. "Bones, _please_ , I need... need to stop looking... or I'm..."

Bones' eyes went wide, and his eyebrow jumped up as his mouth fell open in amusement. "Yes, Jim, you can stop looking."

Like a tether had been cut, Jim's head fell back against the table, stunned by how easy it was to follow Bones' instructions, but too overwhelmed by the sensations to care. The smooth metal on the inside, and Bones' rough hands on the outside of his shaft filled his consciousness, and he shivered. _Breathe_ , reminded the echo of Bones' instruction to him, and he forced his lungs into a smooth rhythm, in and out, in and out, as the sound was smoothly drawn in and out, in and out. The friction was slight, but the pressure, and the feeling of being impossibly full drove through his being, and he could feel his balls tugging, tensing closer to his body.

"No, Jim, not yet."

He whimpered, but felt his own heightening arousal held back. "Mmmph."

"It's okay, Jim. Soon," he said, stroking again.

Jim shivered again, his skin twitching as the shudder worked its way from his groin to every inch of his body. It tugged against each needle in his arms and across his chest. Pulled against the restraints on his wrists and ankles. Came back to the hand on his prick that was still working up and down carefully, cautiously, too cautiously. "Please..."

"Almost, Jim." The hand that was stroking didn't stop, but there was an odd pressure on the ring that was still squeezing the base of his cock. "This is a little something I picked up on leave last summer. Was wondering when I'd get a chance to use it. Got a clever unlocking mechanism... like this."

The ring suddenly released, and Jim couldn't stop himself from crying out as he felt his balls clenching tighter, tighter... and the sound was being pulled out in one smooth movement. "Now, Jim."

The command was his release, and his orgasm ripped through him, not just through his cock and his groin, but through every part of his body. Nerves singing, pulsing, screaming screaming through him, and distantly, he was aware of the fact that he was screaming. There were hands on his face, framing his cheeks and holding him through it, taking care of everything. Bones was right there, speaking softly in his ear.

"I've got you, Jim. Let it all go. Ride through it, Jim. It's okay."

 _It's okay? It's..._ One of the hands brushed his cheek, a thumb wiping something wet from below his eye, and Jim realized that somewhere in the middle of it, he'd begun crying. It made no sense - he wasn't upset, sad, or in distress, but the room was blurry as he blinked away tears that had been set loose as surely as his own orgasm. _Release._ The word whispered through his thoughts, and it didn't matter that the tears leaked down his cheeks even as the last pulses of his orgasm shuddered through him. Exposed, raw, vulnerable, and it was okay, because Bones had him.

"Are you okay, Jim?" The voice was soft and concerned, close but oddly distant now.

Jim thought he nodded, but he was too far gone into the fuzzy haze that was blanketing his thoughts to be sure. He must have, because Bones made a reassuring sound.

"Okay. I'm right here. I've got to take those needles out. Stay with me, Jim."

"Mmmmm."

The hands fell away from his cheeks, and he heard Bones moving around him. First, a soft towel wiped his cock and his stomach. Next there was the rustle of fabric and the light tugging as his restraints were released, one by one, finishing each time with Bones massaging his wrist or ankle tenderly. He couldn't stop the whimper he gave in response each time, and by the noises of approval he heard in reply, it was okay. Then there were hands on his left arm. Something soft pressed over the needle in his shoulder, there was a faint twinge as the needle was smoothly withdrawn, and then the clatter of plastic on plastic as it was discarded. A moment later, the soft pressure was removed, then pressed against his triceps. The faint burn of the next needle coming out drew a gasp, but it was weak and distant and nothing more than a breath. There was a reassuring touch on his hip, then the next needle was removed. As Bones moved around his body, each needle being removed seemed to release Jim from the strange tethers that were keeping him pinned to awareness. The only things keeping him in the present, in his body, were the firm, sure touch of Bones' hands and the steady rhythm of his own breath. One after another, slowly releasing, letting him go. Letting everything go. And Bones would catch him... just letting go...

*********

Leonard removed the final needle from Jim's chest and dropped it into the small sharps box on the floor, being sure to keep constant contact with Jim, skin to skin. After a release like that, Jim was probably more vulnerable than he'd ever been before. He wasn't used to dealing with the high emotions that can overwhelm a person during an intense scene like that, nor the subsequent come-down. The physical was the easy part; if this was all about the physical, nobody would do these things anyway. You could only take the body so far. The mind could go so much further, and the emotions further still.

With his free hand back on Jim's chest, Leonard pulled away the gauze pad. There was a small spot of blood, but the puncture wasn't bleeding, so he dropped it into the sharps container as biohaz and turned his full attention to the thoroughly wrung-out man on the table in front of him. Jim's head was tilted to the side, his eyes were closed, and Leonard didn't think he'd ever seen Jim looking so relaxed, so peaceful. On one level, it was almost an unfathomable contrast to the red marks on his skin and the intensity of what he'd just been through, but Leonard knew why it fit so well, why it made so much sense. His own satisfaction was there, bared and exposed like Jim was, and he ran his hand across Jim's shoulder and squeezed his arm, feeling both protective and possessive. At that point, they felt like the same thing.

He glanced to the side and checked the readout on his PADD, which he'd propped up on the nearby coffee table. Jim's higher brain activity was decreasing, which was to be expected as he came back from such an intense high. The small nutrient booster he'd given Jim earlier had been thoroughly spent; glucose and electrolyte levels were down again. Surface capillaries were starting to constrict, and Jim was probably going to pass out pretty soon. Under Leonard's hand, he could feel Jim starting to shiver.

He reached over and grabbed the hypospray and another nutrient vial. "Jim. Hey, Jim, can you hear me?"

"Mmm... yeah, Bones. 'm listnin." He shuddered. "'m cold."

"I know, Jim. I'll take care of that." He pressed the hypospray to Jim's neck and frowned when Jim didn't even flinch. Yeah, the kid was pretty far gone, but at least he'd had quite the good time getting there. No surprise that he was crashing. "Here, I need you to sit up now so we can get you over to the bed. That's good." He took Jim's weakly offered hand and pulled him upright. "Come on, lean on me, kid. There we go. One foot in front of the other."

Jim was almost stumbling as Leonard helped him across the room and eased him onto the bed. Leonard sat down next to him, then shifted him around so that Jim's limp form was resting against his own chest. From there, he pulled up the blanket and covered them both. It was a snug fit, but he wasn't going to let Jim go anytime soon, and he wasn't surprised at all that Jim curled up and pressed against him tightly.

"Jim?" He reached up and combed his fingers through Jim's hair. "Are you okay?"

Jim only nodded against his chest, making a small sound in his throat. It wasn't a particularly coherent answer, but that was fine. Leonard had him, and was going to take care of him, just like he always had. And, he suspected, just like he always would. Somehow, he liked that idea, and held Jim a bit tighter.

Yeah, he'd been nervous when he'd started, though he'd never let Jim know that. It had been a long time since he'd played like this, but more than the hiatus, now he was sure that Jim himself was the reason he'd been nervous. Other people - they were just play. Intimate, sure. Intense, of course. But this was Jim, and as long as he'd known the kid, Jim had been so much more. He hadn't wanted to let himself think about it too much, but now that he'd seen Jim sprawled out, restrained, exposed, panting, gasping, moaning, screaming... yeah, he'd wanted Jim for a long time. Never thought he'd get the chance, really, but this, now - _fuck_. The feel of Jim's flesh yielding to him, his body complying with every cue, reacting to every touch, and sweet lord, when Jim hadn't been able to look away until he'd given him the goddamned command... the pure memory of it sent a thrill through his own body, right back down to his own aching groin.

He'd take care of that later. Right now, he was still taking care of Jim. Ran his hand over Jim's forehead, then down to the kid's pulse on his neck. He loved the feel of Jim's pulse under his fingertips - the feel of Jim's heartbeat, life beating strong and vibrant through his body. Knowing that Jim had entrusted that life in Leonard's hands, fully and completely, was the greatest gift he thought he'd ever been given. The thrill of it was as intense as the responsibility, and his pleasure was Jim's trust.

"Mmmm," Jim hummed contentedly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into Leonard's. "You like that," he mumbled. "Like checkin' my pulse, don't ya?"

"Yeah, Jim, I do," he admitted openly, then shifted his hand over Jim's chest. "It tells me that you're okay, you masochistic brat, and that's important."

"Mas'chistic, yeah," Jim slurred, "but you'll keep me from bein' stupid."

"I'll try, Jim. I'll try."

"Someone's gotta." He tucked more tightly into the blanket with a soft sigh, and Leonard felt a little twinge of warmth in his own chest.

"Then I guess I'm glad it's me," Leonard said softly into Jim's hair, brushing his lips against the top of Jim's head in a not-kiss that he hoped wasn't too much, too forward.

"Mmmm," Jim hummed again. "Like that. Like what you did to me." He paused, and his body tensed just slightly. "It's okay, right?" A hint of uncertainty had crept back into his voice. "It's not weird that I liked it, right?"

"I told ya, kid, it's no weirder than anything else people do," he said in a low growl. "And if it's so weird, well... I like it, too, right?"

"Hmmm." Jim's body relaxed again, and he chuckled. "Yeah, y'do." Jim squirmed in place and Leonard felt him intentionally pressing up against his own erection which he'd been trying to will into submission.

Leonard shook his head. "Leave it, Jim. I'll take care of it later. You rest. Maybe we'll take care of it all next time."

"We'll do this again?"

A thrill of both satisfaction and anticipation shot through Leonard, and he squeezed Jim just a bit tighter to his chest. "I think so, Jim. Yeah, we will."

"Thanks, Bones," Jim whispered as his body relaxed even further against Leonard. "For everything."

Leonard couldn't stop the broad grin that crept across his face, and he didn't want to. "You're welcome, Jim. You're absolutely welcome." He stroked his hand through Jim's hair again. "Now you sleep. Everything else can wait. Relax... and rest."

A few moments later, he was sure that Jim had fallen asleep or passed out - at that point, it was all the same - but he was sated, safe, and resting soundly, and it was the most satisfying feeling that Leonard had felt in years. He leaned his own head back against the pillows, clutching Jim to himself. Still smiling, but softer this time, he pressed a soft kiss into Jim's hair and whispered, "Thank you, Jim."

When he woke up, hours later, a pair of bright blue eyes were gazing back up at him, in perfect trust.

 

*********

~FIN~


End file.
